


Something like Home

by enthugger



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hugs, M/M, Not much else sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11631726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enthugger/pseuds/enthugger
Summary: Sober, James thinks that Thomas Hamilton is brilliant. He is safe and warm and his presence is a soft glow that brightens the ridged structure of James’ mind. Drunk, he believes that Thomas should own the goddamn world.





	Something like Home

Sober, James thinks that Thomas Hamilton is brilliant. He is safe and warm and his presence is a soft glow that brightens the ridged structure of James’ mind. Drunk, he believes that Thomas should own the goddamn world. 

It’s late, much too late for a polite social call, but the Hamiltons have never been strict on propriety and maybe if he clasps his arms tight enough behind his back no one will notice how his hands are shaking, or the bruises on his knuckles. They’re definitely going to notice the swelling around his eye, but there’s not much he can do about that now. 

The man who opened the door had given him a strange look, and now, staring blankly at the bookshelf behind Thomas’ desk, James can’t help but agree that he’s horribly out of place here. His anger has no place in this lavish household full of hopeful people, it is too much and too little all at once. They deserve so much more than he can give. 

“James! I’m sorry you had to wait, I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” He turns, sees Thomas’s smile slide off his face. Then, “What happened?” 

Thomas is at his side, there are gentle fingers turning his head, ghosting over the swelling at the side of his face and James squeezes his eyes shut against the concern, the scrutiny. “They were talking about you,” he says finally. His voice sounds rough, too loud inside his own head. “I asked them to stop.” 

He unclasps his hands, brings them up between them, shows Thomas the newly formed scabs on his knuckles and immediately wishes he could hide them away again when the worry lines in his forehead deepen. “I asked them…in a manner of speaking.” 

There’s a little smile Thomas gives him, whenever he’s amused by something that he knows he shouldn’t be. James sees a ghost of that smile now, as he brings James’ hand to his lips, kisses the bruises.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Thomas turns his hand over and murmurs into his palm, “They’re always going to talk. I knew that from the moment I tried to change anything, they would fight against it.” 

James looks up at him, into Thomas’ eyes, bright blue in the dark, the curve of his jaw, the quirk of his mouth. “But they shouldn’t fight you, it’s not right. They don’t even know you!” The words are wrong, not exactly what he means to say in the face of Thomas’ eloquence, but his hands are shaking again and he’s pretty sure he gets the meaning across because there’s a soft hitch of breath in his ear as Thomas’ arms fold around him. 

There’s a hand at the base of his neck, long fingers running through his hair, and Thomas is murmuring platitudes into the quiet space between them. James feels the adrenaline slowly drain out of him, until all he’s left with is a soft pulse of pain in his head and the warmth of Thomas’ skin beneath his own. 

He presses a kiss to the side of Thomas’s neck. “Next time I promise I won’t be…” A drunken mess? So in love he could barely breathe? On the losing side of a bar fight? “So obvious about it.” 

Arms tighten around him and there’s a reluctant smile in Thomas’ voice when he speaks. “I think you’ve fought for my honor quite enough for one day.” 

“Let’s go to bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> also on tumblr


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